


Snake Charming for Dummies

by qwanderer



Series: atTempted [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Ambiguously Gendered Crowley, Genderfluid Loki, M/M, Nail Polish as a Bonding Activity, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 06:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19806568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwanderer/pseuds/qwanderer
Summary: Crowley shook his head, picking up the blue as well and considering them both again. “We’ve got them hooked. They want us. That’s clearly not the problem.” He set the bottle of vivid red back on the tray with a clink. “There’s something else that is. And maybe only time will fix it.”Loki took the bottle of midnight blue flecked with gold out of Crowley’s hand, twisting it open and reaching to take Crowley’s hand in hers. “Tell me about him,” she offered as she began painting Crowley’s nails.





	Snake Charming for Dummies

The next time Crowley and Loki got together, there was much less alcohol and very little pretense of anything but friendly commiseration. 

Well, Crowley called the whole thing a “girls’ night” when he’d made the invitation, and Loki wasn’t sure if he was joking, but she showed up with breasts anyway just to make sure to call the demon’s bluff, if he was bluffing. 

He wasn’t, it seemed, because when Crowley opened the door of his London flat, the demon was wearing what amounted to lace-edged pajamas, although still black from head to toe, and there was the stuff for manicures laid out on a table.

“Hey,” Crowley greeted, raising his eyebrows as he looked Loki over. He even tilted his sunglasses down marginally to peer at her, but didn’t take them off entirely. “See you’re getting into the spirit of things. That your shape, or someone else’s?” He led the way into his space as he spoke.

“One of mine,” Loki responded. She shrugged off her coat and draped it over the corner of the gilded throne as if it belonged there, and when Crowley didn’t say anything about that, she decided she liked him well enough to be a friend, rather than just a distraction. “I’ve got a few. Some more monstrous than others.”

Crowley chuckled. “Maybe someday I’ll show you my fangs,” he said. “Wine?”

“Please,” Loki agreed, and hopped up to sit cross-legged on the table, examining the nail polish options Crowley had on offer.

Crowley smiled delightedly, and disappeared, presumably to get some wine. Loki thought she had negotiated that test rather neatly - if she’d sat in the single available chair, it would have been an intrusion. If she’d ceded it completely, it would have been a sign of weakness. The same applied to seating herself in a lower position than the throne. And remaining standing would have kept things more formal than the occasion called for. 

It was a test, she recognized enough of herself in Crowley to know that. And maybe that was why Loki didn’t really have any other friends that she could do things like this with, because she always saw things in those terms. But here it was okay, because so did Crowley. 

Crowley wasn’t going to ask Loki to stop looking for an edge in their friendship, wasn’t going to ask her to stop being guarded. Just like Loki wasn’t even going to mention his removing those ridiculous sunglasses. 

He returned a moment later, handing over a glass lazily before slithering up to lounge on his side down the length of the red marble table. There was barely enough room for the two of them and the nail polish and the wine, and his thigh bumped against her hip comfortably.

She smiled and sipped her wine, which was not terrible. He’d passed her test, as well, managing to convey that he was nonthreatening and that she was welcome in his territory, without so much as ceding an inch of it. 

“So what are you thinking?” he asked, eyes on the array of colors. Some were subtle, some were loud, but the vast majority were dark and glimmering, like the sky at night.

Loki’s fingers hovered over them, and then she plucked up a bottle that was black with a sheen like an oil slick, or a magpie’s wing.

“One of my favorites,” Crowley murmured in approval. “It’ll work with your coloring, too. What d’you think I should pick?”

There was a black with a subtle red shimmer that seemed to make sense with the feel of the flat, but perhaps that was too obvious. After studying him for a few moments, Loki found herself still having difficulty deciding between a midnight blue with a drift of gold glitter, and a vivid red.

“One of these,” she said. 

“You know, I think you’re right,” Crowley said, as if he was surprised. Loki was fairly certain she’d just passed another test. “The problem is,” he continued, “now I can’t decide either.”

In response, Loki picked up a nail file and began to use it on her own nails, saying, “We have some time.”

Crowley seemed to consider this, and then he sighed, picking up a nail file of his own. “Time,” he said sharply, and shook his head. “Everything needs so much bloody time.”

“To do a thing right?” Loki remarked. “Generally, yes.”

“How old are you?” Crowley asked in a probably-meant-to-be-deceptively-casual tone. “What, a couple thousand years? Three, at the outside?”

“Something like that,” Loki agreed, not looking away from her nails. It had been a bit less than two thousand.

“I’ve loved him for twice that,” Crowley said. “Don’t tell me about time.”

“Then who can?” Loki asked, raising her eyebrows, uncowed.

“No, you’re right,” Crowley responded. “It’s just. There has to be something I can do besides wait.”

“Is waiting what he wants you to do?” Loki asked, picking up the blue-and-gold polish and examining it before putting it back down in favor of the bright red. “Or would he rather you be more direct?”

Crowley wrinkled his nose at that. Then he said, decisively, “I need more wine.” He reached for a bottle that hadn’t been in reach a moment ago, and refilled his glass. 

Loki continued turning the glossy red bottle over in her hands. “They both seemed to appreciate our little performance,” she commented. “Maybe there’s more to be done in that vein? Perhaps we could… hmm… swap places, see if we can’t jostle something loose in our respective shining knights?” She passed the bottle back to him for his consideration.

Crowley shook his head, picking up the blue as well and considering them both again. “We’ve got them hooked. They want us. That’s clearly not the problem.” He set the bottle of vivid red back on the tray with a clink. “There’s something else that is. And maybe only time will fix it.” 

Loki took the bottle of midnight blue flecked with gold out of Crowley’s hand, twisting it open and reaching to take Crowley’s hand in hers. “Tell me about him,” she offered as she began painting Crowley’s nails. 

Crowley sighed, long and dramatic. “Didn’t I do enough of that last time?”

“We were drunk,” Loki objected. “I’ve forgotten. Start again.”

“Liar,” Crowley said fondly.

“Hmm,” Loki responded noncommittally.

“Fine. He’s perfect. Well, no. The rest of his side are perfect, and he’s not, and that’s what makes him. Just. The most incredible person I’ve ever known.”

He rambled on as Loki painted each nail with careful precision. Aziraphale was soft-hearted but dangerous, mostly to those who he considered to be under his protection, Crowley said. Paradoxically selfish and generous. Self-indulgent and principled.

Loki hummed along in understanding, not even having to fake it at all.

When she’d finished, Crowley surveyed her work closely, then gave a nod of approval before slithering off the table onto his throne and putting his feet up on the marble slab. 

“Here, do my toes in the red, would you?”

“Only if you braid my hair after my fingers are done,” Loki said.

“It’s a deal,” Crowley said with a lazy smile. “Should be still in practice with long hair from my stint as Ashtoreth. Usually I go for loose and flowing when I’ve gone that far femme for a while, but she was buttoned-up, did braids from time to time when I was getting dressed then.”

Once Crowley’s toes were crimson and Loki’s fingers were deep, oil-slicked black, they elected to move somewhere slightly more comfortable for the remainder of the evening. They went through a room full of lush green plants, more sentient than most and whispering to themselves in not-quite-words, but still, Loki could grasp the gist of it with her Allspeak.

They were terrified. Terrified in a way that did not preclude affection, however. They - they worshipped Crowley. Loki smirked knowingly at them, and they trembled.

It was almost funny. Imitating the parent figure who is the god of one’s realm, terrorizing the little world one has access to?

On further contemplation Loki thought it was a little tacky, but to actually say so would be extraordinarily hypocritical.

They came to the bedroom, and Loki had the distinct impression that he was the only being besides Crowley himself to have ever stood in this space. Crowley’s only other friend was Aziraphale, and Aziraphale - well, if Crowley could have coaxed him in here, they wouldn’t be having this conversation, would they?

Loki felt immensely honored.

They settled in, Crowley parting Loki’s hair while Loki leaned against the edge of the big bed. They weren’t quite drunk enough to talk as freely as they had last time - at least not while looking at each other’s faces.

“Now, what about your guy?” Crowley said. “Is he really the type that needs waiting for?”

Loki thought about that, considering the polish she’d chosen contemplatively. “He does enjoy speed,” she admitted, “but I don’t know what else to do at this point.”

The demon’s hands were surprisingly gentle as they combed through Loki’s hair, choosing a few strands to start with. 

“He’s scared,” Crowley said.

“Tony Stark?”

“Not of you. Of his side. Of what they’ll do to him. Scared of his sense of right and wrong being overturned.”

“He’s not. He’s done it before. Rebelled. He knows he can survive it. It’s what he does.”

Crowley tied off the braid on one side. “He's still afraid.”

Loki gave a little head shake of denial.

Crowley took off his glasses and set them on the otherwise empty side table. As they still weren’t facing each other, the gesture was largely symbolic, but Loki could tell that it meant something. “Nah, trust me, he's afraid.”

“I don’t know how to fight that,” Loki admitted.

“Just be there,” Crowley said. “Do as much for him as you know how. Help him figure out his shit.” He shrugged, and finished the second braid, joining it with the first and braiding them together at the ends. “At least I hope that’s what works. Eventually.”

“How long will you wait?” Loki asked.

“There’s no one else who even begins to tempt me to stop.” In some ways it wasn’t an answer, but mostly it was.

Crowley still sat on the bed behind Loki, so they weren’t looking at each other, but Crowley put his hand on Loki’s shoulder. They interlaced their fingers, sitting in silence. 

After a while, Crowley asked, “Do you have family? Siblings?”

Loki laughed aloud, not hiding the bitterness of it.

Crowley hissed through his teeth. “Loaded question, sorry. I’m not entirely clear on the concept, whether it applies to all of us who were created directly by Her or not. I never felt… like it made us close. Like it made us anything, really. Didn’t seem important, She loved us all. And then… I defied her. I Fell. Where I landed, there was nothing of fellowship. And for a while, all I could feel for the ones who didn’t was jealousy. And I’ve wondered what it’s like, to have a sibling.”

“One,” she answered at last. “And it’s not so different.”

“Well, I was going to ask you if you’d want to be siblings, kind of thing, with me, but we’d better not call it that, then, eh?”

“Perhaps not.” Loki sighed, thinking of the way the words sounded when Crowley said them, how different it sounded filtered through his Allspeak than the word ‘brother’ coming from her own. But she simply wasn’t ready.

She continued, “We don’t have to give it a name.”

“All right, then,” Crowley agreed, and his voice was soft.

-

The next day, things weren’t much more settled, but somehow Loki felt better about them, anyway.

Although Loki had changed back to his more customary form, he’d kept both the nail polish and the braids. The way the braids swept back from his temples and let the rest of his hair flow freely suited him either way, really. And the nail polish was a visual reminder that no matter what else went on, he was not completely alone. There was at least one being in the universe who understood who and what he was and liked him anyway.

Tony Stark was having a party, and Loki didn’t want to intrude, but he did want to be close, so he found his way to the balcony and parked there, looking out over New York.

Tony found him.

“Nice nail polish,” he said, leaning against the railing next to Loki, drink in hand. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Loki held out his hand, admiring with a small smile.

“So. You seem happier.”

Loki didn’t think he was being that obvious, but it was true, nevertheless. “I am.”

“So you and that guy from the climate change reception thingy…” Tony trailed off a little awkwardly.

“He is one of the reasons, yes. A fairly major one.”

Loki meant it to sound lascivious, but he might have taken half a turn towards fond somewhere along the way. Tony’s eyes widened. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” Tony’s voice went a little rough as he seemed to force the next bit out. “Happy for you.”

Loki turned towards him. “Tony. Take off those ridiculous sunglasses.”

“Why?” Tony frowned.

“I want to see your face.”

“What’s the trick?”

“No trick.” Loki didn’t move, waiting.

Tony lowered the glasses slowly, and yes, Crowley had been right, he was scared. 

“Okay, now what?” he asked, jaw tight, as if it was something he was going to have to endure.

Loki took a breath. “I don’t love him the way I love you.”

“The way you…”

“I love you, yes.”

“Huh,” Tony said, and then he didn’t say anything else, and Loki was afraid.

But then Tony said, “What the hell,” and pushed into Loki’s space, and kissed him. 

-

Crowley’s phone chimed while he was out walking with Aziraphale, interrupting their conversation, which was annoying, but he couldn’t exactly complain when he’d encouraged the widespread use of cellular phones for this express purpose.

When he saw who the text was from, though, he didn’t feel the need to complain anymore.

Fellow Snakester: Conquest accomplished!

Me: Is this the one I’m thinking of?

Fellow Snakester: In the parlance of girls’ night? I got a boy to kiss me!

Me: Congrats, you lucky bastard!

Fellow Snakester: Good luck with yours. XOXO

Crowley smiled at his phone.

“You’re texting or what have you, aren’t you? I’d tell you it’s quite rude, but I’m sure you know that, and also you brightened right up. Now who is it?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley shrugged. “Oh, you know, just the Norse god of mischief.”

In a just slightly more subdued voice, Aziraphale asked, “So you and Loki are friends now?

“Oh, something more than that, I think. We haven’t figured out what to call it.”

He’d genuinely been turning the words over in his head. He hadn’t been thinking about how his words might affect Aziraphale.

Aziraphale had stopped walking. When Crowley turned back to him, the angel said very quietly, “Am I too late, then?”

Crowley shook his head. “No, angel. Never.” When Aziraphale was still hesitant, Crowley took off his glasses, and said it again. “Never. I only ever want you.”

Aziraphale beamed. “Well, then. That’s all right.”

Crowley reached for Aziraphale’s hand, holding it tight. “I think… maybe family is the right word, for me and Loki. I’m not sure. I’ve never really had one, except you, and that’s different. You’re my angel.” He rambled on as they walked, about everything and nothing.

They didn’t kiss, but that was perfectly all right. They did hold hands for the rest of the walk.

**Author's Note:**

> Be sure to check out the amazing [art](https://baedhros-russan-doll.tumblr.com/post/186244676821/inspired-by-this-ridiculously-in-love-with-the) that the previous story inspired!
> 
> [Me on tumblr](http://qwanderer.tumblr.com) and [my books on tumblr](http://irenewendywode.com)
> 
> A note about comments: I love and appreciate every one! Recently I haven't been able to reply to most of them because of spoon allocation, but if you want to hack my brain into starting a convo without using a spoon, asking a direct question usually works! Also feel free to hit up my askbox/chat on ^tumblr!


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